Chapter 2 - THE BLOOD-RED DRESS
The cold air of the alley hit them like a slap,
but Julian did not slow his pace,
his stride certain and powerful as he moved toward the waiting black SUV.
His men were already there,
holding the doors open,
their faces masks of professional discipline.
The man who had called him earlier,
the one from the small table,
stepped forward and took the dog from Sadie’s arms.
Sadie felt a sudden,
sharp pang of loss as the warmth left her,
but Julian did not let her go.
He placed her in the back seat of the vehicle,
his movements gentle,
as if she were made of the same fragile crystal they had left in the dining room.
“Drive,”
Julian commanded,
and the engine roared to life,
vibrating through the leather seats.
Titus was laying in the back,
being tended to by a man with a medical bag,
the sound of a heartbeat monitor filling the quiet cabin.
Sadie looked at her hands,
stained with the dog’s blood and the grime of the service entrance,
her uniform torn and ruined.
“Why did you help him?”
Julian asked,
his eyes fixed on her as the city lights blurred past the window.
“Everyone else in that room was content to let him die.”
Sadie looked out at the dark streets of Harrow Falls,
the places where people like her lived in the shadows.
“He looked like he had given up,”
she said,
her voice small but firm,
“and no one should have to die alone in an alley.”
Julian’s jaw tightened,
the muscle in his cheek twitching as he processed her words.
He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clean,
white handkerchief,
offering it to her.
Sadie took it,
the fabric soft and smelling of cedar,
and began to wipe the dirt from her face.
Back at The Harrington,
Celeste Vane was still standing in the middle of the empty room,
her blood-red dress looking like a wound against the white linen.
The staff were moving around her,
clearing the tables in a terrifying silence,
none of them daring to look at the woman who was no longer the queen.
She picked up a glass of champagne and threw it against the wall,
the sound of shattering glass a pathetic echo of her ruined evening.
“He will come back,”
she hissed to the empty air,
“he has to come back.”
But the city knew better,
and the news was already spreading through the underground channels.
Julian Croft had carried a waitress out of his own engagement dinner.
The power dynamic of Harrow Falls had shifted in a single,
violent moment.
Sadie felt the car slow down as they approached a set of massive iron gates,
the entrance to the Croft estate.
She had seen pictures of this place in the tabloids,
but the reality was much more imposing,
much more permanent.
The house was a fortress of stone and glass,
shining on the hill like a warning.
Julian looked at her,
his expression unreadable,
as the gates swung open.
“You saved my family tonight,”
he said,
his voice barely a whisper,
“and the Crofts always pay their debts.”
Sadie wanted to tell him she didn't want his money,
that she only wanted the dog to live,
but the pain in her ribs flared up again,
stealing her breath.
She leaned back into the seat,
May you like
the world spinning,
as the SUV came to a stop.
